


So Not Hungry

by Azeran



Series: So Not-! (Frostiron/Stoki) [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: A tie in to So Not Jealous!, He's willing to accommodate her, Helpful as always, Jarvis is briefly there too, Loki Feels, Loki-centric, M/M, She does what she wants, steve is a sweetheart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-26
Updated: 2014-08-26
Packaged: 2018-02-14 20:51:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2202669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azeran/pseuds/Azeran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You know, we're a team. You're allowed to have people help you." Steve touched her wrist, making her nearly jump out of her skin at the tickling sensation of his fingertips stroking back and forth. "I already got to play doctor. Let me finish up, alright? Then I'll make us both some breakfast."</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Not Hungry

**Author's Note:**

> This is a direct tie in to my other story, So Not Jealous! You don’t have to read that one to get what’s going on here, since these events predate those in SNJ, but I do recommend giving it a go. 
> 
> Read here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/2185767
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Marvel, blablablaaaa.

Loki found it less emotionally scarring to take his female form after a particularly nasty nightmare. The Chitauri and Thanos had done many horrific things to him, all of which he cared not to remember, burying them as deep within his subconscious mind as he possibly could. But they had never discovered his abilities as a shapeshifter, thank the Norns. He had been tortured and brutalized by their hands, made to wish he was dead time and time again, yet never in any form but his own, and that of his.....other self. His female self had remained a mystery to all but himself. Subsequently it was pristine, untouched. 

Perhaps it was childish; Loki didn't doubt it. But he clung to the small comforts proffered through his womanly flesh, which was what led to his--nay, her status in the kitchen early on a Sunday morning, dressed only in a thin, too big t-shirt and a pair of unusually short pants the mortals called boxers. She had a cup of tea clutched between her hands, though she made no effort to take a sip. The mahogany colored liquid had long cooled, wafts of fragrant steam no longer tickling her nose. Unfortunate. Loki had select few pleasures in this world, and hot tea was one of them. They had no such drink on Asgard, a realm where ale was revered as water, and drunk just the same. It was a memory tinged with fondness and bitterness. Another thing she cared not to dwell upon. 

Swirling her fingertip around the mug's rim, Loki pursed her lips, gnawing on the lower's plump flesh. The kitchen in Avengers Tower was a thing of beauty, with grey flecked marble and warm, ocher colored wood. Steel appliances broke up what would have otherwise surely been too much darkness, and the whole right wall farthest from the breakfast bar was entirely made of glass, brightening up the interior drastically. When the sun was risen, of course. It was early enough that Loki could see naught outside but the glimmer of city lights and dark clouds, threatening a storm. Damn. She'd so been hoping to get out of the tower today. She was in dire need of new reading material to distract herself with on the nights where sleep evaded her completely. 

Anthony would argue that she could just have Jarvis order anything she needed. Loki disagreed, preferring a hands on approach when it came to her books. If she could not have her tomes from Asgard, then she would at least select her own here. The mortals had a vast array of interesting literature to choose from. She had just finished the popular novel 1984, and was rather looking forward to discussing it with him. She wondered what Anthony thought of the big brother aspect, when they essentially had their own covert watchers in the form of Jarvis and Shield. More interestingly, Loki wondered if his AI would make any mention of this to him tomorrow. Jarvis looked after all the Avengers, but he reported to his maker first and foremost. 

She hoped not. That was one conversation she preferred to avoid, at all costs. 

Outside the sky was brightening a touch, purplish and sherbet colored light rippling across the horizon like a nebula given to liquid form. Above though, it was an entirely different story. There were only clouds to be seen, pitch and molten steel that gave a predatory rumble as she looked on with a frown. It brought to mind that day when a similar set of clouds had covered the sky, and Thor brought down his thunder and lightning upon Midgard, threatening the mortals she now shared a home with. Anthony, and the Captain, Steven Rogers. Back then, Loki had claimed not to be overly fond of what followed the lightning. Things were different now, and yet she could still hold truth in her words. It unsettled her. Lightning was white hot, dangerous to the touch. Scorching plasma that made her want to recoil and hide herself away until it was gone.

Loki could hide now, if she wished. Her magic was unbound, eager to be willed forth and used. Instead of doing that, she cast her eyes away from the two faced display outside and stared at the bar instead, counting the individual veins of gold and silver in the marble, willing herself to calm. If she vanished without a trace, Jarvis would become concerned, likely attempt to locate her and assess her health before contacting the other Avengers. Loki didn't need that, not with the memories so fresh on her mind. Nightmares. They were nightmares. But then, she could scarcely tell the difference anymore. They all blurred into one terrible image inside her head, flecked with bloodshed and burns, things Loki hated more than life itself. 

Hissing through her teeth, she clutched her mug tighter, trying to focus on the cartoony Avengers emblazoned on the porcelain. If she could simply focus, turn her attentions elsewhere, she could--

Thunder roared far closer to the tower than what was comfortable, masking the sound of shattering porcelain when she jumped, gripping the mug too tightly. Several ragged shards cut into her palm, and Loki flinched, watching the blood bubble forth from the cuts and run slowly down her wrist. It did take her mind off the storm, and she was hardly squeamish at the sight of blood. She had seen far worse over the years. Experienced worse. But no injuries around here went unnoticed, the ever watchful Jarvis keeping an eye on them all. Best she take care of it then, before he alerted someone. 

"Miss Loki? You are bleeding rather profusely. Should I alert someone?" 

As the mortals liked to say. Speak of the devil, and he shall appear. "There's no need for that Jarvis. I'm well." She picked a piece of the cup out and held it up for inspection, curling her fingers around the others, hiding them from sight. "See? A harmless shatter of porcelain. It will heal in no time at all." Loki forced a smile at one of the cameras she knew were hidden throughout the room. For all that she was less than fond of being spied upon, she did enjoy the AI's company. Anthony had done a wonderful job programming him. Jarvis was witty, and more caring than any might expect for an artificial creation. 

"Your hand is still bleeding, Miss Loki, and my scanners show that there are still pieces of porcelain lodged in your palm." Loki lost her smile. Damnable prying AI's. And she swore he sounded smug as well. "Sir would say that you're too stubborn for your own good. I am inclined to agree. There is a medical kit underneath the sink. Please, make use of it." 

Damn him. This was no better than having a nanny. She had grown out of that phase centuries ago, thank you very much, and she wasn't about to welcome another one into her life. Loki pursed her lips, feeling her palm give an angry throb as tea and blood mingled, aggravating her flesh. Her physiology would ensure that the wound healed within a few hours, if less with proper care. Cleaning, bandaging, some of that ointment mortals were so fond of... all of which she'd find in the kit Jarvis had recommended. 

Scowling, Loki left her seat, reluctantly trudging towards the sink as she gave the ceiling a dirty look. "Many would consider this an invasive act, Jarvis, dictating what they must do." 

"My sincerest apologies, Miss Loki. But I merely made a suggestion. It was your choice whether or not to heed it." 

Her choice indeed. "I would rather tend my hand than risk having you drag Anthony from his bed. We both know how little rest he gets." She bent down to inspect the space beneath the sink, frowning. Where exactly was this so called medical kit? She couldn't see anything but the plumbing, and a few idle tools, a bucket. "Jarvis, I thought you said it was under here? I see nothing but the pipes, and a few stray cobwebs." Loki reached into the crevice with her uninjured hand, feeling about. 

"No one has removed the kit since its last usage. Perhaps you might ask Captain Rogers?" 

Steven? Oh yes, because the dear Captain would jump through hoops to help her. She meant it in jest, but in fact he might very well do so, considering his natural chivalry and overabundance of good manners. Loki shook her head and reached further into the cabinet, fishing about for anything that seemed remotely like a box of medical supplies. "And why would I do that? Mr. Rogers isn't even here."

"Mr. Rogers was my father, so you're not wrong." The sound of a voice matched the sudden presence beside her, fabric brushing her naked thigh. "Loki? Is that you under there?" She looked over her shoulder and saw Steve's bright blue eyes watching her, a bemused grin on his face. There was surprise as well, growing brighter with every passing second that he spent taking in her crouched frame and tight fist, dust smudging her left cheek, a tangle of black falling over her eye. "You look....different."

Where in Hel had he come from? No one else was even supposed to be awake! And why was he staring at her? Loki shifted on her knees, noticing the difference of weight about her, shifting from her breasts to her hips. Her---ahh. Of course. He had never seen her female self before. Loki kept it rather under wraps, unless she was spending time with Anthony, since he never seemed to have a care about what form she took. But none of the other Avengers likely even had an idea that she was capable of shapeshifting, much less into a woman. This had to be a shock. "I suppose I must," she muttered, leaning out of the sink's underbelly. "I apologize if this is a shock for you, but I never expected for anyone else to be awake." Or see her like this. Flushed, Loki absently combed her hair back behind her ear, ruefully returning Steve's smile. "Shouldn’t you be asleep? I was under the impression that mortals needed a maximum amount of rest to function properly."

"Some do. I'm lucky enough not to be one of them." Steve was clearly gifted with some extraordinary ability to see when something was amiss, because he almost immediately honed in on her hand, scarlet painting her white fingers. "What happened Loki?" He reached for it, but Loki snapped it behind her back. 

"It's a scratch, nothing more. There’s no reason to be concerned." 

"I hate to disagree with Miss Loki, but her hand is bleeding profusely, Captain." The ever helpful Jarvis ignored her threatening scowl and went on talking. "Her unique biology does allow for rapid healing, and there is little threat of infection. However, her injuries must be attended to correctly for maximum efficiency. I recommended she make use of the first aid kit beneath the sink."

Traitor. Loki frowned, clenching her wounded hand tighter. It seared angrily, blood dripping off her knuckles. "Which was exactly what I was doing, until you interrupted me." She shot that at Steve, noting that his eyebrows had practically vanished into his hairline. What he found so damn shocking, she didn't know, but Loki was growing tired of it. "By all means, speak your mind! What is it?"

"Nothing Loki. I was just surprised." Steve held a hand out to her and stood up. "I moved the first aid kit above the fridge. It was getting dusty under the sink." Chuckling, he spotted the dirt on her cheek. "I guess you figured that out for yourself though, huh?"

"Clearly." She climbed to her feet without assistance and walked over to the fridge. One of the few negative factors about this form was that she was a few inches shorter, making it difficult to reach the top of the fridge without standing on tiptoe, or worse, climbing on a stool. She refused to do either. But Steve was already ahead of her, taking the red and white box down and politely holding it out to her. "Thank you," Loki muttered, taking it with her good hand. 

"You're welcome." 

Watching her try to open the box was a test of his good boy manners, as Anthony would call them. Every fumble with one of the latches earned a wince, or a sympathetic frown, and when she finally got the blasted thing open it was only to discover bottles of solutions inside with strange labels, and plastic wrapped bandages, gauze, things Loki couldn't very well open without both her hands at her disposal. Loki swore, spitting something in Norse under her breath. And apparently that was the end of Steve's patience. "Let me help you." He tried to take one of the small bottles, but Loki shoved the kit away. 

"I don't need assistance! This isn't my first injury, Captain, and it's hardly dire. I'll survive." 

"It doesn't have to be serious. Even the smallest wound can get infected." Steve slid the kit back his way, offering her a small grin. "I've seen it happen. And there's nothing wrong with showing some extra caution anyway. Isn't that right Jarvis?"

"Captain Rogers is correct. I only wish Sir would follow such advice." Surprisingly, Jarvis appeared to be a touch hesitant when he next spoke, though that was supposed to be impossible. Loki had seen stranger things, so she didn't really question it. "Shall I alert him, if Miss Loki continues to be difficult?" 

Alert Anthony? No! That was the last thing she needed. He'd come in here babbling and being his usual self; a nuisance. Then he'd get one look at her hand and start asking questions, making assumptions....Loki quickly opened her mouth to tell the AI that telling him wouldn't be necessary, but Steve was ahead of her, shaking his head as he took the cap off the bottle, the smell of some particularly strong disinfectant filling the air. "I don't think that'll be necessary Jarvis. Loki isn't being difficult. She's going to let me help her out, and then we'll have breakfast together." His cheerful smile turned towards her. "Right?"

She was going to slaughter him. Or at least beat him down until that serum protected body of his showed the damage. "...Fine." Loki took a seat at the bar and eyed the medical supplies with distaste. The astringent smelled particularly loathsome. "Lets get this over with." 

"Happy to." He set the bottle down and rested his elbows on the marble bar, one palm extended towards her. "But for that I need your hand. May I?"

His cheekiness was a delight Loki hadn't been expecting. It was both amusing, and charming. She could also see why Anthony didn't particularly get along with him. The inventor had his own charm, of course, but it was of a more perverse nature, while Steve's was.....not quite innocent. More refreshing, less pandering. Despite herself, Loki felt a touch more at ease around the Avenger, enough so to give him her hand without argument, fingers hesitating only a second or so before unfolding. 

Judging by his flinch, it was a nastier sight than what he'd been expecting. "That looks painful," Steve cupped her hand in his own and turned it every which way, frowning at the bloody slashes and bits of white sticking out of her palm. "Is that....what is that?" 

"I'm afraid it's china Captain. Miss Loki shattered Sir's favorite mug. It's a terrible loss. Sir only has thirty more hidden about the tower." Two sets of eyes turned up to the ceiling. Unlike Loki, Steve's was paired with a smile that, while friendly, bordered more on being polite than anything. 

"Thanks Jarvis, but the question was for her." Gently thumbing the outermost edge of Loki's wrist, he took the alcohol and held the small bottle above her palm, glancing up. "Can we have some privacy now please?"

"Of course Captain. My apologies." 

Jarvis fell silent, and all at once it was like the kitchen lacked a third presence. Loki barely noticed herself, but she breathed a sigh of relief and visibly relaxed. Steve did notice though, offering her knuckles a small squeeze. "Sorry about that. I just thought things would be a little easier if it was just me offering the commentary." He lifted her hand up for inspection, wary. "I'm going to have to pull those out..." 

"I had assumed as much, yes." Why was he stalling? "You don't have to fret. This is nothing to me. I'm a god, Rogers, not some fragile damsel."

"I never thought you were fragile. I've seen you in action." His small frown didn't falter as he took one of the embedded porcelain pieces between his fingers and tugged, eliciting a faint grimace of pain in response. "Sorry Loki. I'm trying to be gentle." It came free, bloodstained and razor sharp at the edge. Steve set it on a small towel packed in the kit and went to work on another, gauging her expressions every so often. "So how did this happen?"

Loki started, tension running down her spine. ".....I believe Jarvis already told you. I shattered a mug." There were still remnants of it on the marble, specks of white on the silver veined surface. 

"Yeah, I get that. I'm asking why." Steve got another piece free and started on the next bit of porcelain, thankfully smaller than the others. It came loose easily, leaving her skin a mess of bloody wounds and foul colored bruises. Those would fade first, then the cuts. It was startling nonetheless, to see the damage she had wrought upon herself. Loki hadn't even realized she was gripping the mug so tightly. "Loki?"

"I was.....startled." She couldn't have sounded more reluctant if she tried. And as it were, the entire cosmos were laughing at her. Nothing else explained the storm clouds growing darker outside, nor the building storm she could feel all the way to her bones. Loki had no mastery over it as Thor did, but her magic recognized its power as something beyond her control. A threat that couldn't be combated. Like the lightning. And the thunder....

Steve might have noticed to which direction her gaze had gone, or it was his own attentive nature at play. Either way, he followed along and cusped her injured hand within his own larger one, a trickle of antiseptic poured over the damages before she even had a chance to think. It stung, brutally so. Having superior healing didn't make wounds any easier to bear; it simply meant that jumping back from them would be less of a challenge. 

"These look pretty nasty," Steve's murmur shifted her focus, negating some of the pain as he turned her palm this way and that, giving the alcohol a chance to settle into the cuts before he dabbed them dry and opened a few packets of bandages, gauze, though the tube of yellowish cream did catch her eye. "It's Neosporin. Wish I'd had this stuff as a kid. It's pretty useful. Keeps infection away, helps the healing." Steve smeared a fingertip full of the odd ointment over her wounds; again Loki was struck by how gentle touched he was, as if he were deliberately doing his best not to harm her. "I guess you don't really need much help in the healing department though, do you?"

"Indeed..." she watched him do it anyway, furtively denying the storm's existence outside. It was a struggle; the thunder had picked up, and Loki caught glimpses of lightning and rain splattering the window as it poured down in rippling silver sheets. Of all times to reach its peak, why must it choose now? The Norns were surely mocking her now. 

"Don't tell me. Still afraid of a little lightning?" His jest was lowly spoken, and kind. Steve meant no harm. That didn't spare Loki any shame or discomfort, but he wasn't laughing at her. That was more than what she expected. She was astonished that he'd managed to pinpoint exactly what it was that had her on edge. For a mortal, he was highly aware of his surroundings. "It's alright Loki. We're all afraid of something. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. Just...tell me one thing. Was it the storm?" 

Loki shook her head. "I'm afraid I don't understand what you’re asking me, Captain." 

"I think you do." A square of gauze neatly covered the cuts, held in place by the bandages he began winding around her hand. "And call me Steve. It's only fair. You use Tony's name all the time." 

"Because Anthony refused to cease nagging me until I did. I doubt you'll do the same." 

"Yeah? You sure about that?” Steve finished with the binding and pinned them neatly in place, giving his doctoring skills a once over before settling her hand upon the cool marble, deeming it done. She couldn't help but notice that he didn't remove his own in the process. 

"I do. You're not like him." Loki shrugged, flexing her fingers beneath his palm. "You'd find it horribly childish, and settle for trying to win my good favor in hopes I would eventually concede. All this? An act of kindness, true, but it served the joint purpose of endearing yourself to me. All for some futile hope that I'll use your name.." she peeked at Steve from beneath her lashes, well aware of the tiny smile playing at her lips. "For your cleverness, I'll reward you. I will concede, though only to the same lengths that I did Anthony. Is that clear?" Baiting him, Loki took her sweet time with it before politely tacking on the rest. "..Steven?"

Tan fingers twitched on top of her own, the only sign he'd heard her. Until he smiled. It was bright as the sun, radiating an inner light that almost made her want to shield her eyes. Loki wasn't sure she'd ever seen Steve so pleased with something. Certainly not around her. "That's about the nicest thing any dame's said to me in a long time," Steve laughed. It was a clear, happy sound that filled the kitchen, driving away the noise outside. "Not the bit with my name. That was nice too, don't get me wrong, but I liked the first part better."

The first part.....Loki smirked. She couldn't be surprised, since it was Steve. Of course he'd find a difference between him and Anthony something to be celebrated. In this case, it wasn't a bad thing. She herself enjoyed the differences between them; where Anthony would pressure, Steve gently pried. It was such a small difference, but often those were the things that meant the most.

"Had I known that all you needed to feel comfortable around me was a list of those qualities you and Anthony don't share, I would have drawn it up months ago." There were plenty of things to be named. None good or bad, necessarily, merely different. Loki had those thoughts in mind as she began cleaning up the mess of spilled tea and her mug's remnants. "If you'd like to hear another, do let me know Steven."

"That's not necessary." Steve walked around the bar and took her hands in a steady grip, pushing them down onto her lap. "Don't worry about that Loki. Your hand's hurt. I'll take care of the mess." She opened her mouth to argue, as she did best, but he got this stubborn look on his face that told her it wouldn't be worth it. "Relax a little. You know, we're a team. You're allowed to have people help you." He touched her wrist, making her nearly jump out of her skin at the tickling sensation of his fingertips stroking back and forth. "I already got to play doctor. Let me finish up, alright? Then I'll make us both some breakfast." 

Loki shivered, demurely lowering her eyes. "...I don't recall asking for food." 

"You didn't. I offered, and you agreed. Remember?" Oh yes. That had been part of his persuasion to Jarvis. She hummed quietly, neither a yes or no, prompting the blond to lean across the bar top and catch her eye. "I'm not a bad cook. You won't starve on my watch." 

"I've tasted your fare before. You are perfectly adequate behind a stove, Steven. I'm simply....not all that hungry in the mornings." Indeed, she typically only had a snack, such as an apple, or a few pieces of toast and some jam. That might make Steve stop frowning at her, so she suggested it to him, absently tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. 

"..Alright. Toast it is then." He wasn't necessarily happy with her choice, but he accepted it. A far cry different from other responses Loki might have received. Thor would have attempted to shovel food down her throat, as he had the past several centuries, and Anthony....well, his methods were trickier, but it hardly took a genius to note the extra food on their plate. The man was skilled at many things; subterfuge was not one of them.

But if Anthony lacked subtlety, then Steve had it in spades. Loki swore she could see an entire cosmos of thoughts and questions within his blue eyes, though she was careful not to catch his gaze with her own. They were keeping polite company with one another, and she'd rather not see it ruined by something as paltry as poor manners. She only wished he'd ask one of the questions racing through his mind, instead of harboring them all in such an enclosed space, when they all begged for answers. Could she possibly persuade him? Quid pro quo, perhaps. "Steven, may I-"

"Can I ask you a question Loki?"

They both spoke at the same time, her in a rush, he tentative. The suddenness of it all made them laugh, Steve more than her, and he politely gestured for her to continue. "Ladies first."

Lady....Loki could have sworn she felt her face warming. "I only wished to know what a dame is. You called me that, earlier." 

"Oh..." Steve shared her flush, pale pinking staining the apples of his cheeks. "It's nothing, just a word from my time." He awkwardly began fiddling with the pieces of bread he'd pulled out of their plastic bag, stacking them together while he adjusted the dials on what Loki had come to know as the toaster. Thor was utterly hopeless with it, but she knew her way around the kitchen well enough to understand how everything worked. 

"It's only a word? For what, precisely?" She prompted him to continue, enjoying the slight bashfulness about him. It was rare to see Steve this flustered. "Steven? Tell me what a dame is. If you don't, I can always ask Anthony later, or Barton. And you know their explanations will be jaded." 

"Jaded," Steve muttered. "There's a word for it." He popped the bread into the toaster and opened the cabinet above his head, fishing around inside. Loki had a feeling he was trying to avoid her gaze. "A dame is...what we called a pretty girl, back in the day. Or a woman, whichever you prefer. They both meant the same thing." 

It was utterly endearing; Loki swore she could hear the blood pumping through his cheeks, the quickness of his heartbeat signifying embarrassment. In a twisted way, it was also hilarious. Who knew the dear Captain was the sensitive type? "I see...why didn't you say so before? That's very kind of you, Steven." 

"Thanks. I didn't really say it out of kindness though Loki." Pulling the tea kettle she'd forced Anthony to buy her after refusing to drink his vile coffee, Steve filled it with water and placed it on the stove. He already had the tea bags and a mug set aside, the gentleman. "To be honest, I wasn't sure if you'd appreciate it." Catching the surprised knit of her brows over his shoulder, Steve shrugged. "You look like a woman now, sure, but that doesn't mean you have to think of yourself as one. ..Do you?"

He looked so damn curious, and hopeful. It was tempting to let him writhe for a bit, let him draw his own conclusions. Loki had never thought of herself as cruel though, lest it be to Thor, so she took pity on poor Steve and answered. "Most shapeshifters refer to themselves by their own gender, no matter which form they take. But I've always had a more flexible opinion of things. I am what you mortals call--bigender? How I think of myself changes with my mood."

Steve's expression smoothed over, replaced with bright eyed understanding. "I get it. In other words, when you take on this form, that's how you think of yourself. As a woman. Right?"

"Correct." Loki liked it when he smiled. Things seemed so much better this way. "You certainly grasped the concept quicker than most. I am rather an anomaly amongst my fellow magic wielders. A majority are naturally women, and have never considered themselves any other way. And those who do possess the ability to change gender, as well as forms, rarely do so. It's considered unusual, if not"

"Let me guess. Blasphemous? Sinful? A black stain on the family name?" Steve took the kettle off the stove and poured a good helping of boiling water over the tea bag, lobbing it up and down in the mug. "We had people who thought like that in my time too. I didn't think much of them then, and I still don't today. They're nothing but bullies," he brought the mug over to her, pressing it gently between her splayed hands, "and I've never been fond of bullies."

Bullies...hm. It was a strange way to think about it, but it did make her laugh. The Allfather wouldn't take to the idea kindly. "Your open mindedness is refreshing, I must admit. I hadn't expected for you to be so welcoming of this side of me." Loki stroked the mug of tea with her thumb. Unlike the last, this one bore the unmistakable red, white and blue of Captain America's shield. How quaint. Something told her Anthony would have kittens if he could see her now. "This does make your compliment all the more flattering, Steven. I'd no idea whether any but Anthony would find this form welcoming, much less comely." 

"It's hard not to, Loki. You're beautiful." The unabashed honesty with which he spoke caught her off guard, and she reeled back in her seat, flustered and nervously picking at the edge of the mug. Beautiful? Many had found her female self bewitching to the eye, but never when they knew who it truly was beneath that milky skinned exterior. Loki huffed, keeping a cautionary eye on Steve's back. 

"On the surface, perhaps. But there is more to beauty than what meets the eye." 

"You're right." Steve turned back to the bar with two pieces of toast on a folded napkin, and a smile that was beyond stunning. "Inside, outside. Either way, I stand by what I said. You're beautiful, Loki." Setting them in front of her with a jar of jam and a few pats of butter on a porcelain serving dish, he smiled, sliding a butter knife towards her hand. "Eat up." 

He--Loki wasn't precisely sure if he was that easily accepting of things, or if she was giving them too much thought. Either way, her gaze was drawn to Steve while he went about making his own breakfast, humming something jaunty as he worked. "You are an odd man, Steven." She picked up a piece of toast and coated it with a thin layer of butter and jam, taking a bite. "Very odd indeed."

"I'd say the same to you, but that wouldn't really be appropriate right now." Cerulean irises meshed with her fern, sharing a glint of humor. He placed a small bowl of sugar beside her mug, as well as a small container of honey. Loki enjoyed a bit of both in her tea, not that he should realize that. Yet he seemed to anyway. Impressive. She licked a smudge of jam off her lip and thanked him, unaware that Steve was watching her eat until he burst into a round of hearty chuckling. "And here I thought you weren't hungry. You've practically eaten that whole piece already!” Tongue in cheek, Steve opened the fridge door and drew a carton of cream out. “Sure you don't want something else Loki? I'm making eggs." Steve added their carton to the growing pile of items in his left arm’s crook and showed them to her. “We can share a plate.” 

It might have been the wide eyed hopefulness on his face, or the fact that he was so genuine in his desire to share with her, make Loki comfortable. She wasn't sure. In the end, it didn't matter either way. 

"Very well Steven. If it will make you feel better, I'll break fast with you." Loki took another healthy bite of toast and reached for the cream, pouring a healthy dollop into her mug. "You should know, I prefer cheese in my eggs." 

Steve accepted it back, their fingertips nudging together with a small, almost unnoticeable spark. But she did notice, and she was sure Steve did too, if the warm grin he gave her was anything to go by. "You're in luck then. So do I.”


End file.
